The Song of Man
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: Life continued on as normal for the city of Yokohama, painful and wonderful as usual, until the day the woman died. Dazai and Chuuya centric, Dad!Mori, oneshot.


Summary: Life continued on as normal for the city of Yokohama, painful and wonderful as usual, until the day the woman died. Dazai and Chuuya centric, Dad!Mori, oneshot.

Yokohama

Chuuya was a black beast of fire, a boy, desperate for connections. He latched onto everyone he could. He wasn't even human, but his heart was large and open.

His partner, Dazai, was a boy, a black-blooded beast. He held everyone at a distance; few found a way into his rusted heart. He was human, but he was not humane.

They were somewhat mirrored by their superiors in the mafia, a doctor, Mori, and a young woman, Kouyou.

They grew up into capable young men.

Dazai left the Port Mafia. Chuuya stayed.

Life continued on as normal for the city of Yokohama, painful and wonderful as usual, until the day the woman died.

XXX

Unknown

Port Mafia Headquarters

Mori's office

The office was quiet. The breathing of the two men inside was the only sound, and even that was faint enough to be nearly inaudible.

"Where is Chuuya?" Dazai asked. He was here for information, as much as he was able to get. His tan trenchcoat stood out against the black, red, and brown of the room-something that didn't fit in. However, his fake cheerful tone and the look in his eyes, that fit. It was a mirror image of how his former boss usually was.

Mori had his elbows propped on his desk. He was looking out of the windows of his office, a sort of idle fascination in his gaze. "Somewhere on the upper levels. Although I feel like that should have been a bit obvious." He let some of his amusement at the question leak into his reply.

Dazai's eyes flicked upwards, following Mori's gaze. The sun was not there. With the darkness of the whole city, it would be easy to say that it was simply night. But the moon was not there either. Instead of a warm yellow or smooth silvery blue light, there was a red glow that lit up the city. Every street corner, every floating building tilted precariously in the air, was doused in that red hue. The light grew stronger the higher Dazai looked. "I need to get to him."

"You're the only person who can stop Chuuya-kun," Mori quietly commented, serious now that the conversation called for it. He looked at his protege out of the corner of his eyes. "Do you intend to kill him?"

"No," Dazai simply stated. He said it as if the very idea itself was absurd, unacceptable, foreign. Like a young child being told that they couldn't play with their friends any longer. It was that type of plain denial, almost as if the person could not comprehend the very idea.

Mori sighed. He could not coddle Dazai, there was no way to, but he could express his sympathy about the situation they were in and the one he had to put Dazai into. "I hope it does not come to that decision for you, Dazai-kun." He pulled a gun out of his desk drawer. He put it on the desk, a meaningful action, a suggestion.

Dazai paused, reconsidering the point Mori was making, the point of the weapon. He picked it up; it was his old gun, the one he used as a Port Mafia Executive. The weight was familiar, almost comforting. The grip fit into his palm, molded to his hand from years of use. "Understood, Mori-san," he quietly replied.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

XXX

Unknown

Port Mafia territory

The city was quiet. There were no cars honking or skidding to a stop nor loud chatter or clatter of crowds on the streets. There was only the groaning of metal from up above and the gusts of wind that tore through the wide open streets.

No businesses were open, no employees stood or sat lazily behind the counters at the front. The displays were still in the windows, unguarded and unwatched. The cameras didn't work in this world, this void, no technology that involved electricity seemed to. It was why he came down to the Port Mafia territory to see if Mori knew anything about what was going on.

Dazai crossed the street, weaving between the abandoned cars.

The Port Mafia's territory had survived mostly intact. The windows here had all shattered, with the exception of Mori's office's surviving panes of glass, which were made to be nigh impenetrable.

He needed to get up to the higher levels. The Port Mafia territory was the middle and the most normal zone out of Yokohama. Above it was the Armed Detective Agency territory, where Dazai had been before. Dazai hadn't heard anything about what was on the very top of this place, and no one had explored it that he knew of.

Dazai walked up the stairs of a building. He slid out of a broken window near the top of the stairwell. Mostly perpendicular to this building-right below that broken window-was a skyscraper in its side. Dazai carefully made his way over to the middle of the skyscraper, where there wasn't any windows, only concrete. On either side were angled windows that, if he fell onto, he would either be going through or sliding down off another edge to his demise.

He walked down the concrete line with a sort of skip in his step. The glass panes gleamed in the strange red hue, reflecting light into Dazai's eyes. The gravity in this part was normal and he was walking horizontally over a quarter of a mile. He almost slipped over the edge half a dozen times. It was a long way up, but it would be far shorter going down if he fell.

He reached the end and entered another street. The buildings were mostly right side up here, like with the Port Mafia. The Armed Detective Agency territory was a large island floating over top of another large island. Underneath both, at the bottom, was another island, far bigger than the two on top. Gravity was stronger there by two or three times. All around, metal seemed to be constantly screeching as it fought against the new burden. Dazai had hated the bottom, he had found nothing useful there, and the trip there hadn't been worth the pain.

Dazai turned a corner. He saw the Armed Detective Agency Headquarters. He saw it was safe still, a small crowd of ability users outside. His coworkers were using it as a base to gather together the wounded so that Yosano could heal them.

As with Shibusawa a few months ago, it seemed that only ability users had been affected. They had all been brought to this place… wherever it was, whatever it was.

Perhaps it was the beyond, the nothingness, that Chuuya had mentioned Rimbaud had dragged him out of. Certainly, it was a void, a different world. The only things in this world seemed to be from Yokohama.

Dazai wondered if Chuuya had meant to bring all of them here or if it was just an unintended side effect. Maybe Chuuya had just instinctively done this and didn't mean to bring the rest with him. Maybe he had just wanted to bring some of Yokohama with him? Chuuya loved the city he lived in with a burning passion.

He turned away. Dazai had a job to do. He had to stop this, and put things back to normal.

The weight of gravity continued to lessen as he jogged up another staircase, but the weight of the gun in his pocket, on the other hand, only seemed to increase.

XXX

Unknown

Upper levels

He jumped. His latex gloves did not help him find purchase, actually acting against him. But he couldn't take them off, not if he wanted to make it to the top. His ability would deactivate the one currently acting around him, and Dazai needed the help of anti-gravity to make his way through.

Around him was a collection of scattered objects. It was a minefield, really. Throughout there were unpredictable patches of regular gravity. If he hit even one of those, he would fall down and break his neck.

Dazai twisted his body around them, jumped at odd angles, and threw pebbles ahead to check if he would fall. The patches could be spotted if one looked out for a decrease of red light in the particular spot, but it wasn't much of a noticeable difference.

He ran out of pebbles a quarter of the way through. He slowed down, checking the air in front of him.

He was almost halfway when he made his first and only mistake-he jumped into a patch.

He fell, immediately. He didn't notice until it was too late to grab onto something nearby.

Dazai's heart sped up, thumping in his chest. He twisted onto his front. If he fell on his back, he could break his spine.

He landed on a car, cracking the windshield. Glass shattered, spreading out lazily in the air around him. He was lucky that he had landed in an anti-gravity spot. He scrambled to hold on, clinging to the side mirror and windshield. His momentum ended.

A sliver of the glass crawled past him, cutting his cheek. He barely noted the stinging sensation-his brain still frozen from shock.

He desperately sucked in air, gasping, the air knocked out of his lungs. Dazai's abused ribcage ached from dropping several feet and slamming into metal. His breathing evened out. He could still feel the pulse of blood in his veins, coursing through, almost bursting in its intensity.

Time to take a break.

He kicked in the window and slid inside to rest. The car alarm sounded out shrilly. Dazai cursed vehemently, the high-pitched sound hurt his ears. He didn't have the focus to stop it, so he just waited it out.

He took a nap in the car, careful not to make skin contact. He had not slept for the past two days. Sleep deprivation had started to set in. That was why his brain and reflexes were slow. He drank some musty but clean water from an unopened bottle he found when he woke up.

Dazai crawled onto the top of the car. He jumped from the car to a tree trunk and quickly skipped down to the roots. He backed up slightly and made a running jump, snagging the edge of a roof. Gravity reverted back to normal. He pulled himself up, rolling onto his side. The roof tiles clanked under his weight.

XXX

Unknown

Top level

Dazai strolled onto a field, full of perfectly trimmed green grass and shady trees. Park benches were dotted around the path. A regular scene for a park, if not for how the cement was cracked and the field had separated into islands.

It lacked the sounds of nature: no birds, no cicadas, no squirrels, not even a cricket. Only the wind was here and the sounds of three beings fighting.

Atsushi, transformed into a tiger, rushed forward. He was covered in bruises and burns that were rapidly healing due to his regeneration properties. He could get close thanks to his ability, the black fire hurt but didn't kill him.

Akutagawa followed to support him after spitting out a wad of blood. His lip was split, trickling blood down his chin.

Their enemy was a being that was not even human. Not even of this world. It was a being of… a beyond, of a nothing that was somehow still something.

It, or he, was made of black flames. He had four limbs, similar in build to an enormous doberman or perhaps a direwolf. His eyes were flames, red fire that seemed to burn through Dazai's mind and scar his soul.

"Arahabaki," Dazai muttered. It was just as Randou/Rimbaud had described years ago. And oh, was the beast terrifying beyond description.

He hoped Arahabaki hadn't broken free completely. . . He was putting together an idea, but he still didn't know for sure what to do; what he had to do. He peeled off his latex gloves after putting a rock in his pocket.

There was a change between the Arahabaki of over a decade ago and the Arahabaki of now. His red eyes, although frightening, seemed to be leaking downwards. They looked like red tears. He did not know what he was crying for, only that there was something dreadfully wrong. He had a conscious, but it was consumed by rage and pain. And that was combined with something inherent in being Arabahaki, destruction incarnate-a wish to inflict the same on the one responsible and howl his pain out to the world.

"What made you fly into such a rage, Chuuya?" Dazai had a feeling he already knew. The death of someone, some people? It had to be something more than just the death of Chuuya's subordinates. Something big, enough to push him over the edge.

Akutagawa and Atsushi were doing fine. They actually acted as the perfect distraction. Dazai ignored them.

Dazai saw the bodies spread around the park. He skipped over to another island, to inspect one. The body was torn to shreds, a blackened mess from being mostly incinerated on top of that. All that was really left was a melted gun.

Dazai climbed the tree, trying to get a better view of the area. There were even more dead bodies than he had expected. Why was there something pink that Arahabaki was standing over? His blood went cold with possibilities. Why was Arahabaki guarding a body, either someone dead or injured? What ability users hadn't been accounted for? And of those, how many wore a pink kimono?

That was Kouyou. Arahabaki, no, Chuuya, was guarding Kouyou, Ane-san.

Dazai's face twisted briefly. He had a job to do, even if it meant running into a fight where he could be horribly mutilated and have an agonizing death. Pain was acceptable for this venture. It was too important.

Dazai sprinted towards Arahabaki. He passed the retreating Atsushi and Akutagawa, both covered in wounds. He didn't spare the breath to give either a word, he couldn't. He skidded to a halt, almost slipping on the lush grass.

Black fire surrounded Dazai, whips of gravity slammed into him. He held out a hand towards Arahabaki. The attacks had no affect on him, a blue light emanating from where they touched him.

The emotions of the beast shifted, still furious but considering. He crouched lower, staring into Dazai's face. His mouth was bared in a snarl, exposing something resembling sharp dagger-like teeth.

There was a difference between someone describing a horrifying experience, such as losing a limb, and actually losing a limb yourself. In the same way, there was no way to explain exactly how those eyes felt on Dazai. Only that it felt as if he was being inspected by a being who already knew all of his secrets-an awful feeling for someone who hated others knowing his inner thoughts.

Dazai's face went completely blank. He had dropped his fake, polite smile hours ago out of exhaustion. He avoided looking at the body dressed in the pink kimono. "Chuuya, come back, you're needed."

Red fire streamed down Arahabaki's face as it leaned closer. The red sparks fell onto the ground, searing the grass. It gave off a sizzling sound.

Dazai didn't flinch, although he felt the uncomfortable wave of heat wash over him. Arahabaki couldn't kill him like this, not directly-although Chuuya had figured a way around Dazai's ability, usually by destroying the floor under Dazai or throwing things at him.

Dazai touched Arahabaki's snout. It felt odd, solid and not at the same time. His ability activated, beams of blue light surrounded them.

Arahabaki and the world around them shifted, in the way heat above hot asphalt does or a mirage in the middle of the desert. And there not was a beast there, but a human, dressed in elegant clothes albeit with shredded sleeves.

Yokohama was back to normal, sunlight replacing the eerie red. The park was not broken apart into islands anymore, but the bodies had stayed.

"Ane-san," was the first thing Chuuya gasped out. He stumbled over a few steps, almost falling over when he tried to sit on the ground. He grabbed her hand, checking for a pulse. Her hand was cold. There was no pulse.

Dazai crouched beside Chuuya. Kouyou's pink kimono had been punctured by bullets, all centered around her chest.

"I was too late, I was too late," Chuuya repeated. "I was...I was…" He choked on the words.

In his haste to get to Kouyou, Chuuya's hat had fallen off. His fedora had survived intact, somehow-Dazai almost felt like the hat had the power to get through any fight undamaged, since he had never seen it need repairs.

Dazai brushed off the black hat. He ran his fingers on the writing on the inside of the fedora: Rimbaud. "Sometimes, you're too late, and there's nothing you can do about it," he relayed, numbly.

Chuuya closed Kouyou's eyes and staggered to his feet. "Are you trying to comfort me? That doesn't help. Just because you know you're eventually going to fail sometime doesn't make it any better," he bitterly replied.

Dazai laughed. "No, it doesn't." He closed his eyes briefly, trying to shake off the images of a deathly quiet hall, blood staining his trembling hand, and the no-nonsense advice of a dying friend. He stood up, pushing the thoughts to the back of his head.

Here Dazai and Chuuya were surrounded by the dead, the usual for them. Bullet casings littered the ground along with guns and carnage. But the birds were chirping out their glee at a sunny day, the cicadas were belting out a series of annoying creaking sounds, and the crickets were scratching out a quiet rhythm.

"I'm going to have to arrange a funeral for her," Chuuya whispered. He had a sort disbelieving tone-like someone who had just been told that the sky was actually green.

"Your ugly hat," Dazai reminded as he put it on Chuuya's head. Distractions worked best for them, distractions from grief and pain.

Chuuya grabbed onto the hat and slapped his partner's hand away, shooting back a reply about the insult to his most prized possession. He was relieved by the familiarity. Nothing had changed with them. They were constants, unlike the laws of physics.

Dazai sighed as he saw Chuuya try to walk off and almost fall. "Need a hand?" He casually suggested.

"F*ck you."

Dazai ignored the response and put his arm over Chuuya's shoulders. He had never let Chuuya's pride stop him before.

Chuuya just had to accept it. His balance was off to the point that he couldn't even walk a straight line. . . If he could even walk. His vision was also blurry.

They walked towards Atsushi and Akutagawa. Atsushi had healed, leaving unmarked skin where his clothing had holes. Akutagawa didn't have holes in his clothes, but he was still cut up and burned mildly in several places.

"You go through your clothes pretty quickly, Atsushi-kun. You should be more careful," Dazai teasingly chided.

"Sorry, Dazai-san."

Akutagawa shifted closer to his current superior. "Chuuya-san, how are you?"

"I'm… fine, just tired," Chuuya replied. His voice was hoarse.

Dazai looked at his juniors. His tone was normal, playful. "It was a supernatural beast of some sort that caused the ability of Yokohama to go to that world. We defeated the beast. The origins of the beast are still unknown." His eyes, an earthy brown, seemed to darken into black as he chirped, "Understood, Atsushi-kun, Akutagawa-kun?"

XXX

Yokohama

Port Mafia Headquarters

Mori's office

There were two people who would know better, who would know what really happened.

One wasn't really a problem at all. Dazai would leave Mori to Chuuya.

Akutagawa had taken over as Chuuya's support. Dazai and Atsushi had already split off to go back to the Agency. Akutagawa left the office with a bow towards Mori and a concerned look at Chuuya.

The view from Mori's office window was back to normal. He didn't seem ruffled at all at what had happened, although he certainly had some questions. "Chuuya-kun," Mori greeted. He got up, walking over his to his executive.

"Boss, Kouyou is dead," Chuuya rasped. He was bone tired, both mentally and emotionally.

Mori's face twisted in grief for a few moments. "I'm sorry," he quietly said. His expression smoothed out as he put a hand on Chuuya's shoulder.

Chuuya stumbled slightly. He had taken off his hat, pressing it to his chest in a gesture of respect for his boss.

Mori frowned. "Sit down before you fall over." He guided Chuuya over to one of the chairs.

Chuuya ran a hand through his bangs after he sat down. He had lost his black gloves at the park. "Her body is still there. And I need to arrange a funeral in a few days. I need to take care of her subordinates."

Mori calmly listened to Chuuya's rambling. He nodded. "I'll take care of it," he asserted. "Now, do you want time off?" It sounded like a callous question, yet it was not. Sometimes it was better to be kept busy.

"I don't want time off, Boss," Chuuya replied. He stared at the red carpet at his feet, dark bags under his eyes.

"Alright." Mori would be keeping a closer eye on Chuuya from now on, for multiple reasons.

XXX

Yokohama

Lupin

There were two people who would know better, who would know what really happened. One wasn't really a problem at all. And Dazai would make sure the other wasn't a problem.

"Hey, Ango-kun," Dazai chirped as his former friend sat down.

"Tomato juice," Ango requested form the bartender. "Dazai-kun, why did you call me here?"

Dazai smiled. "I thought you'd like to see this." He pulled a plastic bag out from his pocket, in it was the rock from the park.

Ango looked at Dazai, wariness in his gaze. He accepted the bag. He touched the rock. His ability activated and he saw what had happened. Ango paled. He let go of the rock.

Dazai hummed. He clinked the melting ice in his glass of whiskey. "I know about the report you did on the Arahabaki incident and Chuuya and me joining the Port Mafia eight years ago."

"How do you know this won't happen again?" Ango asked. A shiver ran through his hands as he put the bag on the bar top. He accepted his glass of tomato juice from the bartender with a nod but didn't pick it up.

Dazai's spine arched as he slumped forward, propping his elbows on the bar top. "I can't guarantee it will never happen again. But what I can guarantee is that none of the organizations in Yokohama can stop him. And if we tried. . . Well."

Ango took off his glasses, cleaning them with his sleeve. He had an uncomfortable expression on his face, but it wasn't as if he hadn't done things like this before. "You want me to suppress this information? Submit a falsified report?"

Dazai laid out his terms, "Just lie about who the beast is and where it came from-claim you don't know. It's up to you what information you include for everything else."

Ango sighed. He leaned back on the stool. "Alright."

XXX

Chuuya blinked hazily at the page. The words blurred together into an incomprehensible mess. He rubbed the bridge of his nose to ease his headache.

His phone vibrated. It displayed a text.

Mackerel: I got wine, want to hang out?

Chuuya rolled his eyes.

Slug: I'm busy.

Mackerel: Really?

Mackerel: I would have thought you'd want some.

Mackerel: I mean, it's a Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Romanee-Conti Grand Cru 1990

Chuuya shook his head in disbelief.

Slug: I call bull

Slug: How the f*ck would you get one?

Mackerel sent a photo

It was of Dazai holding up the bottle of said wine, the label clearly displayed.

Slug: What

Mackerel: I'm great at finding things

Chuuya bit his lip.

Slug: Fine

A/N

* Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Romanee-Conti Grand Cru 1990

To put it simply, it's an insanely expensive wine.

The title 'the song of man' comes from section one of Chuuya's poem Depilautum. Here's a link to Bsd Bibliophile's translation on tumblr: https/bsd-bibliophile./post/184500502961/depilautumn

Since Fifteen was adapted, I decided I might as well do something with Chuuya being Arahabaki. So raging Arahabaki making everything go crazy? Sounds like a fun story.

I really enjoyed creating a world where gravity wasn't constant and figuring out how different parts of Yokohama fit in.

-Silver


End file.
